Cataclysm
by jaded-alchemist
Summary: April O'Neil has been dogging her boss for months to let her cover something more than just fluff stories. Bernie finally throws her a bone. It's a lead in a fifteen year old cold case. AU!
1. Chapter 1

A/N: I don't own Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles. Sadly.

So for some background for those of you who watch the newer television series, movies etc. April O'Neil was originally cast in the comics as a computer programmer (and later in a 2003 television series as well) however she was a television reporter in her debut in animation in 1987. I like her as a computer programmer, she has a much stronger personality, but the reporter will allow me to take this story where I want it to go. So, I'll be rolling with that version of April. Albeit, she won't be running into any walls and knocking herself out (Which actually happened in the first animated series…oh 1980's how we miss you).

* * *

Summary: April O'Neil has been dogging her boss for months to let her cover something more than just 'fluff' stories. Bernie finally throws her a bone. It's a lead in a fifteen year old cold case.

**_Cataclysm_**

**Chapter 1**

* * *

April huffed as Ronnie switched the camera feed off, letting the microphone drop to her side as she tried, and failed, to let the contestants of the New York City AKC Dog Show know exactly what she thought of them. Her eyes caught on a Pomeranian and her scowl darkened. "Nothing but fluff."

"Hey April, let's get outa here. My sinuses are acting up." Ronnie called out, a red handkerchief pressed over his lower face and the camera hefted over his shoulder. April gave the floor of the dog show one more disgusted look before she stormed out behind Ronnie as he snuffled into the swatch of fabric.

The mid-February air was a shock to their senses as the small news team hurried through packing their gear into the blue news van. "Another fluff piece." April groused as Todd turned the key and pressed his gloved hands to the heater, despite the cold air blasting through the vents. She huddled down farther in the passenger's seat.

"You'll get there, April." Todd stated consolingly through chattering teeth, tucking his chin into his scarf as he did so. The frost on the window began to melt slowly, crumbling downwards towards the windshield wipers.

April huffed, watching her breath mist the air, "I'm there now! Why won't Bernie throw me a bone! I can do this!"

Ronnie slammed the side door shut with a shaky laugh, "Throw me a bone. That's a good one." He rubbed his gloved hands together, not bothering with a seat belt as Todd jerked the news van into gear. April made a frustrated noise in the back of her throat, tucking her hands into her armpits for warmth as they veered out of the convention center parking lot and back towards the station.

* * *

"I'm not covering the elementary school science fair." April stated, quickly cutting off her boss' latest assignment.

"You love science; this is right up your alley." He protested, still shielded from view by a newspaper. April glared at his sausage like fingers, willing him to change his mind.

"Yeah baking soda volcanoes and moldy bread will definitely pique my interest. C'mon Bernie, how about you give me that crime wave piece?" April pressed on, blue eyes glinting in determination.

"Vernon's covering the crime wave, April." He sounded exasperated from behind his newspaper. She pressed her lips into a fine line as she listened to her boss wave away her latest attempts to distance herself from the fluff pieces that plagued her career.

"Something else then, the city council elections are coming up." She pushed, desperate.

"Alice has politics covered; she's been working that story for months."

April almost growled. Instead she stopped and counted to ten silently, pinching the bridge of her nose. "Please, Bernie. Anything but fluff, I want to be taken seriously for once." She pleaded, a hint of hysteria creeping into her tone. Bernie "Burn" Thompson flicked his paper down to look at her from over his rectangular glasses. His bald head gleamed in the florescent lighting.

"Well, I have something. It's not Vernon's crime wave story, but it's not fluff either." He folded the paper onto his desk before hunting around in his drawer for something. April felt hope flutter in her ribcage. He pulled a file from his bottom drawer and flicked it open, "A fifteen year old cold case. There was a break in at T.C.R.I, the company was pretty tight lipped about what was stolen. A few days ago someone mailed this to me." He handed her the file, and April's smile widened. "It could be nothing." he warned in an offhanded manner.

"Or, it could lead to something!" April suppressed the urge to jump up and down in excitement as she peered into the file. "An inventory list? They stole a potentially toxic compound that was being researched at the facility." April flicked through the paperwork, pausing at a molecular diagram and frowning as she recognized some of the elements in the compound. "I can have this story?" she inquired taking a step back and hugging the file to her chest.

Bernie nodded, reaching for his paper again, "And follow it wherever it takes you, on one condition." Bernie warned waving his paper in a no nonsense manner, "Don't get in over your head."

April grinned at him, "I promise, sir." she took several backwards steps towards the office door, "You won't regret this, sir!" She twisted the knob and took off down the hallway, nose already stuck in the file.

Bernie sighed and flourished his paper, "I already do."

* * *

April sucked on the pen cap as she reviewed her notes; post-its covered the wall, strings tacked between so many notes that the wall-turned-collage was starting to look like a spider web. She had been digging for info for two weeks and had already analyzed that the theft could only have been an inside job. She was leaning more towards one employee in particular, Baxter Stockman. He had been let go weeks after the theft, most likely because his employers had come to the same conclusion she had after looking at the lab's entrance logs.

She frowned, what would Stockman want with the substance? She had wracked her brain over the molecular compound, had made discreet inquiries over its potential properties and still she was at a loss. Her only lead was Stockman. She had dug into the man's life, humming over his shady finances, his new company which quickly became the leading industry in robotics and weapons development, and his newest invention which had been donated to the city, Mousers. Large, menacing, bipedal robots that made her feel sorry for the rats of the city. She sighed and stretched, rubbing at her forehead as she muttered about needing fresh air.

* * *

April couldn't believe her luck. She had been buying a birthday present for her soon to be ten year old nephew, when she spotted him. Stepping into a company car across the street was Baxter Stockman, looking rather shifty coming out of a small run down Laundromat. April nearly jumped in front of a cab in her haste to hail it, clutching the terrarium tightly to her chest and after sliding into the back seat with a hasty "Follow that car!" she smiled apologetically at the tiny turtle housed within. It blinked dazedly up at her, and she rubbed its head with her index finger.

The cabbie dutifully followed the car, twisting its way through New York until they came to a seedy warehouse by the docks. Baxter got out of the car after a long moment swiftly making his way inside, hands glued in his pockets and shoulders hunched low. His car didn't linger long as it crunched through the snowy gravel and out of sight. April cautiously got out of the cab, instructing the cabbie to make a few rounds around the neighborhood. He grumbled as she shut the door, but complied with a squeal of rubber and hail of slush and gravel.

April shuddered then blinked down at the terrarium she had brought with her in her haste to follow. Cursing herself quietly, she frowned down at the reptile before lifting it carefully out of the tank and sliding it into her inner jacket pocket and buttoning her coat. She placed the terrarium on the sidewalk before quickly making her way towards the building, fingers wrapping around her smartphone in the warm depths of her pocket.

The back of the building had rickety snow covered crates piled as high as the window, but April quickly dismissed the idea as dangerous and slunk towards the unguarded back door. Water lapped against the docks and she shivered as an icy wind cut through her jacket. Twisting the door knob slowly, she smiled brightly when the door clicked open.

The inside of the dilapidated building took April by surprise. It had been converted into some sort of patchwork lab. The equipment, April realized quickly, belonged to the different stores and businesses that had been experiencing robberies lately. "Sorry Vernon, looks like I got the scoop on your crime wave, after all." She murmured, tapping her phone's screen to wake it up.

Clicking pictures of equipment as she went, April steadily slunk her way into the makeshift laboratory, listening to the distant muttering of voices as she went. "-Finally discovered its use, quite by accident of course." The tone was nasally and didn't quite fit the image Baxter portrayed. She crouched behind a hulking machine she'd only seen on TV and stuck her phone up over it snapping a volley of pictures as she went. "The substance is a mutagen, it elongates the life of whatever comes into contact with, and it also makes it grow exponentially. Think of what this could mean for agriculture, for the world!"

She drew her hand down and flicked through them carefully. Baxter was talking to a slim nondescript man in a lab coat, a small canister in his hands and a dandelion about his height behind him. April blinked at the photos in disbelief. "Agriculture will not be on our client's agenda I assure you." Baxter's deeper voice cut through the smaller scientist's excitement.

April crept backwards, a small frown marring her facial features. Client meant he'd been working for someone, possibly someone influential. Her back came into contact with something solid, and warm. With a sharp intake of breath she whipped her head upwards. A muscular man grinned down at her, arms crossed, and a purple dragon wrapped around his left bicep. He wiggled his fingers in a mockery of a wave. April, gulped, suddenly feeling like she'd gotten in over her head, despite her promise to Bernie.

Scooting backwards, the red head reached behind her for something, anything to use to defend herself. Her fingers brushed against something and she scrabbled to grasp it. It popped off of the machine with a hiss and she lunged upward swinging a small, cylindrical, metal canister at his face as hard as she could. He grunted staggering backwards and holding his face as blood spurted between his fingers. April took off running back the way she came, sneakers squeaking against the floor.

Alarms began to go off, a cacophony of voices adding to the confusion. Echoes and chaos dogged her steps until she burst from the back door into the debilitating cold. She whirled around the corner only to skid to a stop at the sight of the muscled man framed by two larger thugs. The street light flickered ominously glistening off of the blood that was sluggishly running over his chin. The scowl under the lamplight twisted into a shadow expression that promised painful retribution.

She spun around and stuttered to a stop at the sight of more men with similar tattoos blinking into the dim light of the back alley. Acting without thinking, she bolted towards the docks, panic rising in her throat. Her grip on her weapon slipped, and it tumbled across the dock, glass shattering before it dropped into the ocean with a plop. "I got her!" A hand caught her jacket sleeve just as her feet hit a patch of black ice. Her sleeve ripped, and April tumbled forward, sliding into florescent green, ice cold water.

* * *

A/N: So I know this is probably not my best work, but I thank you for reading it and putting up with my on the spot wish to get something out there. This was a sudden thought that I had while I was reading about the new Michael Bay TMNT that's coming out this year. And I started reminiscing on the past TMNT shows, and a thought struck me. Why haven't I seen any Mutant!April stories? I may continue this or I may not. I'm still working on _Truth is Stranger_ Chapter 2 so that may take the forefront. Review, constructive criticism is welcome.


	2. Chapter 2

A/N: I still don't own Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles.

Okay so last chapter was a bit short and I'm afraid so is this one. I'm trying to go a different route with this (obviously) and I take pride in how my attempts usually result in success. I have been focusing on this story a bit too little and my new HP/Hobbit crossover a little too much. And haven't even blinked at any of my other stories. I'm such a bad writer.

Anywho, just a heads up, this chapter jumps around a little bit, but it sets the stage for chapter three, so please enjoy.

* * *

Summary: April O'Neil has been dogging her boss for months to let her cover something more than just 'fluff' stories. Bernie finally throws her a bone. It's a lead in a fifteen year old cold case.

_**Cataclysm**_

**Chapter 2**

* * *

The current was strong; it pulled her along, dragged her under, scraped her against rocks and mercifully pushed her up for a lungful of air once or twice.

April's mind screamed, her muscles ached as she fought against the rip tide she had been unlucky enough to fall into. Finally after what felt like hours of fighting, clawing at the water, she felt an unbearable pain seizing her entire body.

She jerked shakily trying to keep her head above water and failing miserably, she choked on a mouthful of salt water, then another. Her brain pounded between her ears, and her vision tunneled as she slowly drifted below the waves. She wondered mistily when she had stopped swimming as she watched bubbles of air, precious life giving air, drift lazily towards the surface. The darkness closed over her with a sluggish sort of finality.

* * *

Bernie stared blankly at his newspaper, idly picking out spelling mistakes as he went. A habit he only indulged in when he needed to be reminded that everyone around him made mistakes. A shrill ring sounded and he glanced at his smart phone which was casually propped up on his desk, frowning at the dark screen. A second ring and his stomach dropped, hand frantically scrabbling with a cheap prepaid cellphone in his pocket. He flipped it open and held it to his ear, fingers already slick with a thin layer of sweat.

"Why in the hell is that reporter still sniffing around this case? He's making my whole department look bad." came a deep growl from the other line, a quake of fear raced through him. He straightened his shoulders willing himself to think aggressively, he ran a business, god damnit.

"Sorry if that's inconvenient for you chief." He sneered, he just needed to keep the upper hand, "But my man sees a story and runs at it like a rabid animal. Little I can do to stop him."

"I told you to hand him the cold case file." The chief countered, the mention of the file made Bernie pause.

"What's so damn special about that file anyways?" he grumbled suspiciously spinning his chair to stare out into New York.

The Chief let loose a humorless chuckle, "Everything. It holds the keys to this whole thing; if it ever went public a lot of powerful people would be very unhappy."

"If you wanted your department to look so good, why not pursue the lead yourselves." Bernie inquired, eyes narrowing in suspicion.

"There are tabs on that file. Feelers out in case someone gets too close. Can't tell you how many officers, good honest cops, I've lost because of it."

"I gave that to O'Neil." He breathed out before he could stop himself.

"Too bad, she was pretty." The chief stated, not sounding very sorry at all, "Reign in that rabid animal of yours Bernie, before someone puts him down." The click of the phone call ending did nothing to jar Bernie out of his horror.

* * *

April's entire body convulsed, her lungs protested then _heaved_. The water that dribbled over her chin surprised her as she desperately flipped over digging her fingers into the gravel beneath her. Memories swarmed through her mind as she gasped and sputtered, she allowed her forehead to rest in the gravel, fingers wiggling experimentally. Something green moved in her peripheral vision.

Three thick ungainly fingers, green fingers, greeted her bewildered gaze. Puffs of white mist obscured her vision momentarily. She lifted her hand and the green hand responded in kind. "Wha-" her tongue felt leaden and she struggled to sit up, staring aghast at her hand. _Her Hand_. She allowed her focus to shift, her arm, same shape but different color. Clothing barely intact, covering equally green skin she tried to look at her legs, but they were folded under her.

She pitched upwards in an attempt to stand and then backwards as an unexpected weight threw her off balance. She winced, anticipating an impact only to gasp in shock as she landed on her back, but something wasn't right. It was rounded and she couldn't feel the gravel beneath her. She rocked back into a sitting position, fingers searching across the rounded expanse along her back. A shell, she was green and had a shell, she glance behind her at the water as it washed in wave after wave gently. It was different. It was blue and gentle. When she had fallen it had been green, violently green.

The mutagen. It had changed her.

She was ill suited to travel any normal routes, and she'd be damned if she dragged her colleagues or family into her mess. Robyn had a son, and Ronnie had a serious girlfriend. Stockman's crime syndicate would be looking for her. Hunting her. A large green mutant turtle would be an easy target. April blinked, her mind still sluggish and muddled. She looked down the bank and caught sight of a pipe. Sewage pipe. Perhaps she could buy some time hiding under the city rather than within it.

April staggered to her feet.

* * *

Hun's shoes crunched through the ice encrusted sand, seething silently as he and a handful of his men canvased the beach in search of the errant reporter that managed to escape their clutches the other night. He absently reached up to tap at his now misshapen nose with a thunderous scowl.

If she was lucky, very lucky, she would have died in the rip tide she'd been pulled into.

"Boss!" called one of his younger members, Scuz, waving him over before tucking his hands into his leather jacket pockets. "Take a look at this."

Hun stalked across the beach, eyes searching for a crumpled body, a glimpse of red hair. What met his gaze was nothing short of disturbing.

At Scuz's feet lay the frozen, half eaten, body of what looked like a very deformed premature infant. Its skin was a dull greyish green, scaled like a reptile and the remains of a small soft shell covered its back, picked away by seagulls no doubt. Pudgy limbs were pulled close to the body and its beaked mouth was open and slack.

"Pick it up." Hun ordered.

Scuz sneered down at the body, poking it with a toe of his combat boots. "Fuck that boss. I aint touching that freaky looking thing."

"I said," Hun placed a hand almost gently on the back of Scuz's neck, almost able to touch his index finger and thumb together, and steadily applied pressure until the smaller man cried out in pain. "Pick it up." He shoved the man forward, sending him toppling over the mutated remains. "The boss will want to see it."

"Stockman?" Scuz choked out, picking himself up as Hun let out a shrill whistle calling the rest of his beach combing party to him.

"We don't work for Stockman." He focused on the heavily pierced countenance of one of his oldest members. "Send some guys to her apartment. Take anything that may lead the cops to us."

* * *

Leatherhead shuffled carefully down the sewer way, shoulders stooped in an attempt to avoid scraping against the top of the passage. He shifted his grip on the box full of various salvaged mechanical odds and ends he had picked from the dump earlier. A small sound caught his attention and he blinked a set of transparent eyelids then a leathery set soon afterwards and tilted his massive head in the direction he'd thought the noise had come from. He silently hoped that he wouldn't run into a homeless person that had taken refuge in the tunnel, and distantly recalled the last time such an event had occurred with a jerk of his lower jaw and a long rattling hiss of displeasure.

His appearance was intimidating to say the least, an imposing six foot nine inches of stooped humanoid crocodile was enough to make the average man pass out. He let loose a long breath as a low moan reached his ears. It sounded pained, distressed. The sound originated from a small alcove to his left. His feet shuffled sideways against his better judgment and soon he was staring, almost uncomprehendingly, at the hunched, distinctive form of a female mutant turtle.

She was shivering from the cold, ice had formed on her shell and Leatherhead looked between her and his box full of parts as he tried to discourage himself from getting involved. He didn't belong here, this wasn't his problem. He would be home and where he belonged soon enough, and the last thing he needed was to be distracted by a young female mutant gallivanting through his sanctuary.

He began to slowly shuffle backwards, stomach twisting in what Leatherhead refused to believe was guilt when a shaky three fingered hand reached out to weakly grab at his ankle, hazel eyes stared up at him blearily, pleading him. "Please help me." She whispered slumping into unconsciousness.

Leatherhead dropped his box resolutely.

* * *

Vernon ran a hand through his hair one more time as he stepped onto the landing in front of April O'Neil's apartment. He'd been poaching stories from under her nose since college, making a name for himself in the process.

He'd always believed that she had been too good to stoop to his level, until Ronnie, her simpering camera man had expressed concern about her. Babbling about a potential lead for a story she'd been obsessing over. A lead on _his_ story. He knocked primly on the door, plastering his best charming smile on his face, knowing it would only make her scowl, as he waited impatiently for the red headed reporter to answer.

A minute passed and he frowned, knocking again a bit louder, frowning in irritation. Still no answer. He slid his fingers through his hair one more time before shooting furtive glances down either end of the hallway. Finding it empty he tipped over a fake potted plant a few steps to the right of her door, plucking a spare key from under where it stood.

"O'Neil?" Twisting the knob, he stepped into the apartment "April?" When no one answered, he shrugged, "Must've stepped out."

Her wall above her desk had been turned into a massive investigative web. Vernon smiled a sharp predatory sort of smile, whipping out his phone. Snapping pictures of documents, and pictures he plucked the file she had been pouring over from her desk and tucked it into his coat.

He bent over her laptop, tapping impatiently at the mouse pad to wake it up, then jabbed the power button when it refused to respond.

The front door creaked open, and he straightened, a smile easing onto his face as he turned to face his colleague. He blinked in surprise, wide fake grin slowly dropping from his face at the sight that greeted him. Three large thugs, stood in the entryway of the apartment, purple dragon tattoos wrapped around their biceps.

"Well well well." One of them chuckled taking a few steps forward. He drew a pistol out from behind him and cocked it casually. Vernon edged back against the edge of the desk. "If it isn't the _other_ reporter we've been dying to meet."

* * *

"God let it have been a dream." April groaned, her eyes ached and her head was pounding like she'd been binge drinking. After several failed attempts to open her eyes and take stock of her surroundings, she finally managed to crack open her left eye, finger's moving up into blurred vision to rub the grit out of the other one.

She paused, horrified to find her hands were in fact green and did in fact only have three fingers. She whimpered as she patted at her body. Her fingers found hard shell and she slowly went up to feel her face. Her bone structure hadn't changed much, she had no nose and there was, what felt like, a small beak where her lips should be. Her fingers went shakily up to her head, meeting smooth skin instead of silky hair. Another strangled whimper escaped her as she sat up on the pile of blankets she had woken up in, throwing a few away from her body to stare down at herself in abject horror. "Oh God!" She didn't have any clothes on.

A hissing sound caught her attention and she immediately reached out for one of the discarded blankets covering her body self-consciously. April blinked, and then blinked again as the stooped form of the mutant alligator shuffled towards her another step. Its jaw was just barely agape. She clutched at the blankets awkwardly. "Oh Jesus."

A hissing chuckle made her jump as the mutant before her cracked an honest to god alligator grin. "Leatherhead." He stated, his voice raspy, and April pressed her shell against the cement wall behind her.

"What?" She finally choked out.

"My name," He rasped out slowly, blinking a set of transparent lids at her and then a leathery one. "Is Leatherhead."

"Oh." She said feeling rather slow, "Mine's April. Nice to meet you." She replied hazily. Still disbelieving the entire situation was even happening.

Leatherhead nodded slowly, shuffling from one foot to another, "There's no need for that." He stated simply, gesturing to the blanket April still clutched to her chest to shield her clotheslessness. "Your plastron covers everything adequately."

April blinked at him feeling dumber by the minute. "My _what_?" She peeked below the blanket at her cream colored under shell; she supposed it was what he was referring to. It covered her body like a one piece bathing suit, she frowned still disturbed by the sight of her new body.

Leatherhead merely huffed out of his nostrils at her before shuffling towards a large hulking piece of machinery in the center of the chamber. April brought the blanket back to her chest, unwilling to let it go just yet. She let her eyes take stock of her surroundings for the first time. It looked like an old subway security monitoring room, though the top most stairwell had been caved in. There appeared to be at least three doorways and a gaping hole in the farthest wall that was half blocked by rubble.

A large work bench sat off to one side, covered haphazardly with paper and tools, boxes of wires and mechanical parts lined the rest of the wall. She twisted to see if any other signs of life were to be found and frowned when she was only met with the mound of blankets she had woken nestled in, and an old ice box humming in a corner a ways away.

"You live here?" April inquired, standing and awkwardly pulling the blanket about herself, fumbling with her bulky new fingers.

"I do." Leatherhead replied sounding distracted as he fiddled with the machine.

"Thank you." April said after a long moment of silence, observing the larger reptilian mutant as he worked. "For helping me."

Leatherhead paused, turning to look at her with an unreadable gaze, a rattling hiss escaping his mouth and April shifted nervously. Without a word he turned back to his machine, standing just a little bit straighter.

* * *

A/N: I would like to apologize if anyone is upset or if I managed to offend someone. This chapter had a rather dark subject crop up, and I want to state that it brought me no joy to write one scene in particular.

A dead infant, mutant or not, is never a happy subject. It's never an easy subject and I honestly didn't want to kill off April's turtle friend, but I had written the chapter without the baby and realized the little darling most likely would have died of cold long before being discovered by someone. Even before that, it would most likely have drowned as it was dragged in the riptide.

So again I apologize if anyone was shocked or angered by that particular piece of writing.

Moving on from that, I did have April found by a background character from the 2003 series. Leatherhead has always fascinated me as one of the few emphasized mutants. I enjoy underdeveloped characters the most because it gives me room to play and develop them in my own stories.

I also am kind of shying away from having April meet the boys too soon. Partially because I don't want to do them an injustice, and partially because I think it'll be interesting to throw her into a different point in the plot, after having bonded with a different character set first.

The first chapter hinted at the fact that the whole Mouser fiasco already had begun or blew over without April's involvement. So they have vacated their original hideout and made it onto the Shredder's radar already. Stockman is now conducting research on the turtles trying to gather information that may benefit them in defeating them, and that's what April stumbled upon.

In the cartoon series, Leatherhead moved into the Turtle's old home, though with their help, in my story he stumbled upon it while wandering the sewers and decided to bunk down there.

Hope you all enjoyed this chapter, Please review, constructive criticism is always welcome!


	3. Chapter 3

A/N: I still don't own Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles.

Last chapter, I feel like it jumped around a lot, though more places and people wise than time. Thank you to all you invisible readers, those who have followed or favorited this piece, or even the ones that shrugged and said "Eh. I'll take a gander." I salute your choices and commend you on sitting through my little story and taking what I have to offer. I do however long for feedback. Perhaps it is the attention monger buried deep inside my soul, but I find feedback to be motivating and insightful.

* * *

Summary: April O'Neil has been dogging her boss for months to let her cover something more than just 'fluff' stories. Bernie finally throws her a bone. It's a lead in a fifteen year old cold case.

_**Cataclysm**_

**Chapter 3**

* * *

Baxter J. Stockman wondered where his life had taken such a turn. Here he was a renowned scientist and brilliant businessmen, reduced to squatting in an abandoned warehouse, filled with stolen equipment, as a sort of quasi lab, while working for New York's most notorious crime lord. Did he mention that said crime lord's biggest problem happened to be four mutant turtles that practiced ninjitsu?

While the fact that there were four mutants meandering about New York fascinated him and warranted some looking into, he hadn't quite envisioned it to be like, he paused in his train of thought staring down at the half eaten carcass of a small infantile mutant turtle in disgust, _this_.

Hun, a bulky six foot blonde with a military haircut, loomed behind him even as he leant against a wall. Baxter fought the urge to scowl at the brute. "Find anything?" Hun inquired gruffly, wiggling a smart phone in Baxter's direction to indicate the Shredder was awaiting any helpful news.

"Nothing useful." He answered, turning his attention back to the subject while Hun placed his call.

He had long since discovered that most of the internal organs had been picked out of the body. A single punctured lung had remained, and from the lung he had discovered the creature had most likely drowned. He had also determined that the mutant had been a male, that its blood was identical to a human's and its blood type had been O+.

Not much else could be determined from the body, it had been dead far too long to determine anything of importance regarding the four larger and infinitely more dangerous specimens that gallivanted about New York thwarting the foot clan at every turn.

Baxter pushed the sterile tray away and pulled the surgical mask down to hang around his neck as he stalked away from the thing lying on the tray. Because really, he could be accomplishing so much more with his time.

* * *

Chief Sterns peered around the small apartment owned by one April O'Neil, eyes roving over to the stooped figure of his ME over her coworker's body.

"Well." The middle aged man exclaimed, straightening with a crack of his back, "Body is about forty eight hours old by my estimation. Cause of death is obvious, single gunshot wound to the head."

The Chief considered the wall as an officer emerged from the small bedroom at the end of the hall. Large and small square shaped blank spaces were intermittent throughout the dried blood spatter, as if someone had removed something from the wall after killing Vernon Fenwick. "Hey, Chief." Officer Wiggs called to him from where he stood in the bedroom door. Sterns glanced at him before striding over, brow furrowed. "Those spaces that interrupted the spatter, I think I know what caused them."

Stepping into the sparsely furnished bedroom his eyes immediately caught sight of what looked like a story board of events, all focused around an international story that April O'Neil had probably pitched to her boss weeks ago, the layout strikingly familiar to the spaces on the wall in the living room. "Looks like someone didn't like her newest story." Wiggs stated.

"Good job Wiggs" He clapped the officer on the shoulder, "Jefferson!" He barked striding from the room.

A tall muscular man in a collared shirt and a badge hanging around his neck blinked at him from around the alcove leading into the kitchen. "Yeah Boss?"

"You're heading this case." He stated, emphasizing his point by jabbing a meaty forefinger at the man, "I want to be kept updated on this particular situation." He said his voice lowering as he stood toe to toe with the detective. Jefferson gave him an inquisitive look, "It may be connected to that cold case, you know the one." He continued offhandedly, _'make sure it doesn't come back to us'_ went unsaid but understood. "Put out an APB on O'Neil while you're at it." Jefferson's eyes narrowed in understanding as he saluted; disappearing back into the Kitchenette, fingers already dialing the precincts familiar number.

Chief allowed a grimace to steal across his face, guilt worming its way into his gut. He strode out of the apartment quickly and once in his car he tugged out his cell phone and held three. It rang once, twice and then was answered by a gruff sounding Bernie Thompson, "What do you want, now?"

Chief Sterns swallowed his guilt at his part to play in this, and sneered, "Fenwick's dead." He stated simply. No sense beating around it. A sharp intake of breath was his initial response.

"What?"

"Found him dead in O'Neil's apartment, been there for a few days." He continued, other unoccupied hand gripping the steering wheel absently.

"W-What?" Came the bewildered question again.

"That's about the time when O'Neil was last seen, they have any bad blood between them?" Sterns pushed, ignoring the way his stomach seemed to be trying to crawl up his throat, ignoring the constricting feeling in his chest for what he was about to do, for the criminal who's tracks he was about to cover up. But he had a wife and two kids to think about and his resolve hardened.

* * *

It had been a few days since April had woken up in Leatherhead's care. April huffed as she rolled another large piece of rubble away from a small arching doorway, careful to keep her toes out from underneath it after one too many close calls. Leatherhead sat in his usual spot, tinkering with his large gadget and ignoring April's presence for the most part. This would be the last piece she would move she reasoned, stomach grumbling and sweat trickling down her brow.

With a final push the piece toppled with a loud clattering thunk against the cement floor. She turned, hands fisted on her hips, catching her breath eyeing the pile of rubble she'd painstakingly hefted out of her way. She shifted to peer into the half collapsed upper level. She could spy a dented stove and a splintered table amongst it and what appeared to be a fridge lay behind a large slab of cement that she wasn't sure even Leatherhead could move.

Turning her gaze back to the small arching doorway she took another deep breath and meandered cautiously into what looked like a small bathroom. A toilet was tucked against the back wall next to an old claw foot tub. A small sink, fashioned out of an old pedestal sink and some exposed pipes, sat on the opposite wall.

She cautiously entered the room, eyes adjusting to the flickering light. She jumped as she passed the sink; Whirling about with her hands clutched to her chest. She let out her breath shakily; it was her reflection in a broken lopsided mirror above the sink. She leaned in studying her new features in horrified amazement.

Her nose was gone, as were her lips, as she had surmised from her earlier exploration of her face, in their place was a rounded beak and some nose slits, her eyes were the same color and shape, and her bone structure seemed unchanged. She ran a three fingered hand over her smooth scalp and, frowned once again, at the loss of her hair. "I look like Ralph Fiennes in that Harry Potter movie…" she whimpered, eyes starting to burn in frustration at the impossibility of her situation.

She twisted to take a look at her shell, a medium brown with a mottling of thin tan lines bursting outwards like a child's drawing of a sun. Her eyes started watering as she crossed her arms over her chest and she turned resolutely away from the mirror, angrily scrubbing at her eyes to check the functionality of the tub.

She twisted the knobs experimentally, a wavering smile making its way to her face when hot water came out of a rigged shower head above the tub. She allowed herself to walk back out of the bathroom, ignoring the reflection in the mirror as she did so and focusing instead on her growling stomach.

She trotted out towards the old dented icebox and peered into it sucking on her teeth in thought. Leatherhead, she had noticed, hated being distracted when he was working on his device. Thankfully he'd yet to lose his patience completely. She glanced at the large broad back of her host in thought for a moment. "Leatherhead?" She inquired still sounding a little shakier than normal. She cleared her throat.

He turned around, a small hissing breath escaping him as he eyed her. "April?" he inquired back, his tone hinting at mild aggravation.

She let loose a soft breath and smiled sheepishly as her stomach let loose another growl, more aware of how awkwardly her facial muscles moved. "Do you have any food stashed away around here?" She inquired softly, as he stood at his full imposing height, stuffing a wrench in the pocket of an oversized, tattered lab coat.

"Nothing in the freezer?" He inquired, she shook her head and he made another disgruntled noise "Then we are out." He intoned solemnly, irritation melting away as he observed her. Her arms were crossed across her stomach defensively; eyes just a little puffy and her shoulders slumped. "I suppose I could go get something." he twisted his wrist and tilted his massive head to the side gazing at a wrist watch that was secured to his wrist with what looked like a hemp bracelet. "It's evening."

She blinked at him for a moment as he turned his shuffling gait towards the sewer entrance, half blocked by rubble to disguise it. "Wait!" She called trotting to catch up with him. "Can I come with you?" She inquired, desperate for some fresh air, a glimpse of the city.

He turned to consider her for a moment before shrugging and nodding his consent. She beamed at him and followed after the larger mutant.

* * *

"Get ready to have your butt handed to you, Bro." Mikey crowed, remote in one hand and game controller in the other.

"Yea right." Raph replied with a smirk, flopping back onto the old worn couch, "Maybe if we were playing Super Smash, but this Nazi Zombies. I rock at this game."

Mikey scoffed, turning the television on and promptly froze. He blinked at the large Television screen on the lair wall at a young, blonde reporter, "Woah she's new." A goofy smile broke out across his face, "What a babe!"

Raphael grunted from his sprawled position on the couch, mask loose and draped around his neck and a curious frown pulling at his face. "Hey turn the volume up." He demanded, tossing a pillow at Mikey to emphasize his demand.

Mikey jerked, paying the pillow little attention, and rapidly mashed the volume button until her voice filled the room, "-Fenwick. Mr. Fenwick was found by police in Ms. O'Neil's apartment late this afternoon, with Ms. O'Neil nowhere to be found."

A picture of April O'Neil faded into the corner of the screen, Leo stuck his head out from the dojo, "Hey, Mikey, turn that down!"

Mikey and Raph shushed him in unison, "If you have seen or know the whereabouts of Ms. O'Neil please call the number on the screen." The newscaster continued, smile stretching in a plastic sort of way. Leo stomped out of the Dojo, snatching the remote from his younger brother. "Now, to Bob with the Weather. Bob?"

Leo Pushed mute. "O'Neil? Isn't that the reporter Mikey's always making kissy faces at?" Raph inquired, a leer stretching across his face as he eyed his younger brother.

"You're just Jealous of our relationship, Bro." Mikey retorted.

"She's outta your league." Raph shot back with an eye roll. Leo frowned between the two of them

Donny ducked into the living room curiously, "Hey you guys hear about that reporter that's suspected of murdering her colleague?" Headphones hung around his neck, and a laptop cradled in his arms.

"What?" Mikey wailed, whirling to face Donny. "She'd never do anything like that!" He protested tossing his controller at Raph, "She's nice and funny-"

"Well the police seem to think that she did it." Donny interjected a thoughtful frown on his face. He made his way over to the couch, settling his laptop on the coffee table as he sat.

Leo hummed, "If the police are after her they must have found some evidence-"

Mikey crossed his arms across his chest grumpily, "Evidence shmevidence."

Raph leaned forward curiosity shining through, "Hey Donny think you can get us a look at the photos?"

"That's highly illegal!" Leo squawked, his purple masked brother quickly ticking away at his keyboard. "And against our moral-"

Donny snorted, "Done."

Mikey scurried to peer over his brother's shoulder as Raph shouldered up on the other side. "Oh sick, bro." Mikey complained face scrunching up even as he leaned in closer.

"That's an execution." Donny stated bluntly, looking a fair bit paler than he normally did as Raph clicked through the crime scene photos.

Leo frowned as he reluctantly made his way over to take a look, "That looks more like a gang related killing."

"Hey what's that?" Raph inquired jabbing his finger at the screen causing it to discolor until Donny swatted his finger away. The four brothers peered at the screen, a keychain lay under the desk, a small barely distinguishable purple dragon etched into the tear drop shaped leather tab.

Three sets of eyes turned to Leo and the eldest brother sighed in a resigned sort of way. "We're only going for a quick look." He finally relented, refraining from rolling his eyes as Mikey whooped and ran to the Dojo for his weapons.

* * *

Their outing had been successful and April was sure if she had lips they'd be pursed. They had managed to find a small supermarket that had left its loading dock unsecured and had taken a few weeks' worth of canned food from it. Her hunger had overridden her guilt at the time, but it was making a rather spectacular come back. She stared down at the large double layered paper bag in her hands and then glanced through the dim lighting at Leatherhead's back.

Logically, it was almost impossible for them to fend for themselves without breaking a few laws. But April still felt rather guilty for stealing; she'd only stolen once before in her life.

She bit back a sigh as Leatherhead came to a rather abrupt stop a rattling hiss that sounded far more threatening than any noises he'd made thus far, echoed through the tunnels, "We're being followed." He hissed, tail lashing angrily and April stumbled back to avoid it, the bag tore at the corner in the process. She fumbled to catch the bottom of the They stood in relative silence for a few moments; a high pitched whistling sound caught her attention.

"Leather-" He hissed at her cutting her off.

He turned, dropping his own bag with a clatter, and grabbed hold of her. She froze at the dangerous snarl that adorned his face as he tugged her in front of him and threw them both into an alcove. The whistling growing in volume, ringing through the tunnels.

"The Hunter." He rattled as an explosion sounded from deeper in the tunnels. Her hands bunched the paper bag in fright. Her mind barely registering that the food had already fallen out of the bottom as a second explosion rocked the sewers. He laid a clawed hand atop her head, gazing at her in the unreadable way he did, "I'll hold him off. I need you to run April." The request was gentle despite the raspy hissing that underlay it.

"The Hunter? What Hunter? What about you?" She blinked fearfully up at him as a colorful string of curses echoed down the tunnel towards them. Her hands had dropped the bag and instead fisted around one of the sleeves of his lab coat.

He let out a hissing laugh, "I will be fine. My hide is thick, yours is not." He gently removed her fingers and slipped back out into the tunnel, letting loose a deafening roar. April darted out into the tunnel, freezing as she caught sight of Leatherhead's hulking form tower over a dark haired wiry man with a rifle pressed into his shoulder. His dark eyes fastened on her and his finger squeezed the trigger. The last thing April was aware of was a white hot pain shooting through her shoulder and an enraged roar as the world tilted, tunneled and went black.

* * *

Leo stared down at the appendage in shock. The watch that was still fastened about the wrist beeped. Leo blinked and turned away, stomach churning as he took in his brother's similarly flabbergasted expressions.

They had been on their way back from investigating the crime scene, finger print dust and dried blood had been all over the living room, Donny had scanned as many finger prints as he could with one of his newest gadgets, easily surmising that there had been at least five sets in the small apartment.

"The things people throw away." Mikey stated, tone half joking yet wavering in discomfort.

Raph quickly caught onto their youngest brother's discomfort. Mikey usually reverted to joking in order to cope. "Yea, Televisions, video games, perfectly good arms." He drawled, shifting so he was no longer facing the limb.

"Who." Leo started and stopped himself, shaking his head as he frowned around at the scorched walls and blood spatter.

"Maybe the foot clan?" Mikey suggested hesitantly.

Leo shook his head, "No too messy. This was done by someone else."

Donny squatted a ways away examining something on the sewer floor, "Or something." He muttered, the sound carrying back to his brothers through the tunnel easily. A series of clawed footprints, which started in a disturbingly large puddle of blood, lead further into the sewers.

* * *

There was blood everywhere, not all of it was his. Most of it belonged to the hunter he had dismembered after the human had shot April.

April. He glanced down with an agitated hiss at the slumped girl, a sickly pale shade of green instead of the healthy darker shade she normally sported. Red, red blood slowly staining the lab coat that he had wrapped tightly over the wound. He hurried through the doorway into their home, and he nearly paused at that thought. When had it become 'they' instead of 'he', when had it become a home instead of a sanctuary.

He glanced down at the younger mutant, huffing as he gently laid her out on the pile of sheets and blankets he'd procured from various places. He pressed against the wound firmly; mind moving a mile a minute.

The rifle had been equipped with High heat plasma rounds, unfortunately not hot enough to cauterize the wound as it went through her shoulder, at least not completely. He surmised it was because the rounds weren't entirely compatible with the weapon they were fired from.

"April?" He hissed, blood seeping through his fingers and he rattled a desperate breath. He knew that without medical help she would most likely die. She was too young to pass away, too vibrant, too- He stopped, inhaling and swallowing thickly nostrils filling with the coppery scent of her blood. "Too important." He rasped out, his other hand stroking her smooth head trying to make her wake. To just open her eyes.

"Lucy I'm Home!" He snapped upwards, whirling to face the audacious intruder. A loud rumbling growl echoing in the cavernous room.

"Mikey!" A second deeper timber reprimanded the first. There were four Mutant Turtles, larger and broader than April, heavily muscled and armed with traditional martial arts weaponry. Each was adorned with a different colored mask. One Blue masked turtle with a set of Katanas glowered at a sheepish looking turtle in an orange mask, presumably Mikey. Mikey's hands were clasped on the ends of a set of nunchucks.

"Sorry." He shrugged, not sounding a bit sorry. The turtle to his left rolled his eyes behind a tattered red mask as he muttered something in Japanese and swatted at Mikey's head.

Mikey opened his mouth, offense crinkling his face "Nu-uh! Your mom's-"

"That would make her your mom too." The last turtle interrupted, sounding rather annoyed, his bow staff held securely in his hands and eyes peering out from behind a purple mask.

Leatherhead knew his bulky frame could shield April's tiny form, but not if all four decided to attack him at once. He let loose another warning growl as they seemed to reign in their bickering, expressions sobering. "Who are you?" He demanded, hands curling into fists, "What do you want from us?"

"We could ask you the same question!" The red masked turtle stated harshly in a shockingly thick Brooklyn accent, pointing the tip of his sai at Leatherhead.

"We found a few body parts lying around the sewer earlier." The blue masked turtle stated, arms crossed over his chest as he stared at Leatherhead's blood covered hands, "You wouldn't happen to know anything about that would you?"

Leatherhead bristled, jaws snapping in agitation. "The Hunter attacked us first!"

"Us?" the purple masked turtle inquired, blinking up at him in confusion. Leatherhead shuffled nervously in front of April, keeping an ear out for her shallow breaths. The other turtles were now craning their necks to peer behind him.

Leatherhead felt his anger and caution give way to desperation. "She needs help." He stepped to the side revealing April's prone pale form to the four male turtles, eyes firmly assessing their reactions. "The Hunter shot her." He explained as he observed the looks of shock that had dropped over the faces of the intruders.

"Is that?" Mikey inquired, skipping forward a step and unconsciously tucking his nunchucks away. His blue eyes wide with disbelief. "Donny?!" He turned to his purple masked companion in confused excitement.

Donny nodded, slowly tucking his own weapon away, "I see her Mikey." He took a cautious step forward, "My Name's Donatello. These are my brothers Leonardo, Michelangelo and Raphael. I think we can help your friend." He said soothingly, eyes flickering from Leatherhead to the prone form of the girl behind him. "May I?" Leatherhead nodded his massive head keeping a critical eye on the other turtles as they reluctantly tucked their weapons away.

Donny swallowed thickly, pressing his fingers to her wrist. He grimaced her pulse was thready and weak. He eyed her critically, a blood soaked rag was wrapped around her shoulder, and her skin was a pale green that he'd only seen on Raph once when he had been very sick.

"Well?" The closeness of Leatherhead's gravelly timbre nearly made Donny jump. "Can you help her?"

Donny's mouth thinned into a slim line "She's in shock, lost a lot of blood. We'll have to move her to a more secure location." He stated quietly, peering over his shoulder at the massive mutant.

Leatherhead let out a rattling hiss at his admission. "Where?"

"I have everything I need at the lair," He paused, eyes drifting back down to the girl. "Our home."

Leatherhead's rattle of displeasure echoed around them, his tail thumping on the concrete ground. "I'm coming too."

* * *

A/N: The plot thickens! Murder, mutants, Police corruption!

I was kind of hoping to keep them from discovering April until further down the road, but it just seemed to spiral away from that (as stories are want to do sometimes). Ah well. I had this chapter half done and sitting in my docs folder, figured I'd finish it up and post it instead of having it stare at me balefully every time I click on a piece for my college course instead of it. Poor neglected Cataclysm.

Thanks again my lovely readers! If you feel the urge please do review. I always welcome constructive criticism. :)


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N:** I don't think I'll ever own Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles. Not for lack of trying though.

I received some fantastic reviews! Thanks to all of you who took the time! I got a particularly thought provoking review from an anonymous reader (You know who you are). And a few that gave me this niggling urge to write a Leatherhead/April story (not this one but another one... maybe if I can get my act together…)

* * *

**Summary: **April O'Neil has been dogging her boss for months to let her cover something more than just 'fluff' stories. Bernie finally throws her a bone. It's a lead in a fifteen year old cold case.

* * *

**Cataclysm**

**Chapter 4**

"_April's missing."_ Two words had upended her whole world a few weeks ago. Her mother had taken a shuddering breath and elaborated, but Robyn barely heard it.

"How?" Robyn had breathed into the phone after a long agonizing moment where she _couldn't breathe_, well aware of her mother's own distress. No one had any answers; the police had come and gone, disregarding their testimonies that rebuked any notions of April being capable of homicide. Robyn couldn't bring herself to watch the news anymore, not with the pictures plastered everywhere, not with the fake blonde reporter staked out in front of April's apartment building.

Now it was the day before her son's birthday, and _April's still missing_. She was supposed to be there, she had offered to help decorate and wrangle the rascals. She felt tears roll down her cheeks and she stifled a sob.

"Mom?" Ryan called for her from downstairs.

Robyn wiped at her face quickly, thankful that she had foregone makeup that morning, "Just a minute sweetie!" she called out her voice just barely wavering. She took a moment to compose herself, she was a mother and her son needed her to be strong for both of them.

* * *

Master Splinter could proudly claim that he was hardly ever taken off guard. Michelangelo himself had deemed the act impossible, at the very wise age of five and a half, after many failed attempts to surprise his 'papa'. It took a lot to shock him, much more than tiny turtles jumping out from the shadows. But he couldn't claim that he was fearless. As a single father of four boys, he was bound to have instances that prematurely greyed his whiskers. Like when Leonardo had come down with a particularly bad case of the flu or, more recently, when their home had been attacked by mechanical monsters and he'd been separated from his children.

Today seemed to be one of the days that proved five year old Michelangelo wrong. He had been taken aback by the whirlwind of anxiety and grim faces his boys burst into the lair with, or more specifically the sight of Donatello. His second youngest son was covered in blood, making Splinter's heart leap into his throat before his mind registered that the girl in his arms was the one injured. He took a second to marvel at the sight of the slight female turtle cradled in his son's arms before Donatello whisked into his lab. He was quickly followed by a large bipedal alligator.

"_Sensei._" Leonardo greeted, bowing at the waist, "We found them in our old lair, the girl is mortally wounded-"

Michelangelo pushed past his older brother, unbalancing him in his excitement, "Can we keep her?!"

"Mikey!" Leo admonished, eyes narrowing on his youngest brother.

Raphael rolled his eyes at the orange masked turtle and cuffed him about the head. _"__Kanojo wa noranekode wa arimasen."_

Splinter sighed deeply, closing his eyes as his children bickered. _"Chinmoku." _They stilled instantly and he opened his eyes again. "What happened?"

* * *

_Beep Plop_

The scent of antiseptic stung her nose as she shifted, all too aware of the dull pain rocking through her frame. The sound of water dripping somewhere nearby rung in her ears, harmonizing with the heart monitor.

_Plip Beep Plop_

She felt heavy, sluggish. Her eyes wouldn't stay open. "Where-" her voice was raspy and jagged. A rattling hiss sounded from nearby.

_Plop Beep Plip_

A firm grip on her hand startled her, "You are safe." She huffed a relieved breath, squeezing Leatherhead's hand back and clenching her eyelids together, trying to drown out the sound of the heart monitor, trying to push away her panic.

"What," she cleared her throat lightly, "What happened?"

"What do you remember?" He inquired.

She peeked at him, "I remember going to the supermarket." She started, brow scrunching, "Whistling. Explosions." A wiry man, thick black hair and eyes so dark they seemed to be voids. She looked down at the white swath of bandages wrapped around her shoulder, eyes still drooping shut every few seconds. "The hunter?" She gingerly freed her hand from Leatherhead's grasp to touch the area tentatively.

"Shot you." Her companion snarled, low and feral. April nodded remembering the sudden pain in her shoulder, then darkness. "He has been dealt with." April blinked blearily at him mind whirling, Leatherhead's anger drained out of him and he reached out to squeeze her hand again to reassure her. "Rest, April."

_Plip Beep Plop_

She didn't argue, gladly slipping into unconsciousness.

* * *

Leonardo took a deep breath in, eyes closed lightly. His features were illuminated by a single candle lit in front of him in the dojo. He furrowed his brow in frustration as the sound of Raphael tossing things around in the living room peaked into the dojo. It was a sign that his younger brother was nervous, though he'd never admit to it aloud. Finally the door to the lair slammed shut and silence descended on the room again.

He took a few more calming breaths trying to sink into a meditative state, but found his mind wandering to their unexpected guests instead. More specifically, the female of their species lying on the medical cot in Donny's lab.

She was dainty. Short compared to them, he estimated she'd come up to his chest. She was the fulfillment of several 'what if' scenarios he'd mulled over throughout his preteen years. Her existence was almost too good to be true.

And there inlay the problem. He was the leader, the eldest. He had to look out for his brothers, had to be mindful of threats. They couldn't afford to blindly trust her because she was like them.

His fists clenched tightly on his lap and he forced himself to breathe deeply again and relaxed his muscle groups systematically.

"Leo?" Donny called apprehensively into the dojo.

Leo jerked in surprise and stood to face his younger sibling. "What is it Donny?"

* * *

Raphael looked down at his bleeding knuckles, breath coming out in harsh pants. A few Purple dragon punks lay on the ground in front of him, broken and for the most part unconscious. "Jesus, Raph." Came a muffled voice from the mouth of the alleyway, "What's got your panties in a twist?" He turned to scowl at the masked figure. Donned in a tattered tank top, Hockey mask and some worn out jeans; the man sauntered into the alley whistling low at the carnage. He tipped the mask up, revealing his sharp jawline and a nose that looked like it had been broken a few times. Icy blue eyes met his and he raised a dark brow.

"Casey." Raph huffed, turning his gaze away with a frown, "You got any beer?" He inquired, finally turning back to Casey. His human friend grinned and slipped his mask over his face again.

Three beers in, Raph couldn't help but let his mind and the conversation wander back to the lair, back to _her_. She had been a shock to their system, this impossible thing come to life. They suddenly had a choice. They didn't have to live the solitary dangerous life of a ninja forever. She made it possible to settle down and start a family. Raph felt something ache, like something had gone down the wrong pipe, but deeper.

He wanted that, Raph realized with a start, he wanted someone to come home to, someone to start a family with. But it was more complicated than that. His brothers wanted it too, would be crazy not to. He was strong, sure, but not nurturing like Leo, funny like Mikey or smart like Donny. Truth was he didn't know how to even talk to a girl.

Casey glanced at him, taking a swig of his beer. "So this chick's been living with a giant alligator down there?" he inquired, and hooted at Raph's nod. "I knew there were gators down there."

"Yeah, they were stayin' in our old place." Raph fiddled with his nearly empty can for a moment.

Casey whistled, peering at his friend carefully, "That place was trashed last time we were there."

He knocked the rest back with a frown. "Not much better now." Raph snorted at that and snagged up another can. It wasn't, from what Raph had seen they were sleeping on piles of old blankets, rubble still blocked half of the rooms and had crushed most of the kitchen. It was no place for anyone to live in its current state. He cracked his beer open with a bubbling hiss. "Don's talked Leatherhead into lettin' her stay until she can move back with him."

Casey hummed, "Maybe we can clean it up a bit for em'? I've been itchin to do some renovation work."

"Yeah?" Raph cast a sidelong glance at his friend, hiding a small smile behind his beer can.

"Yeah!" Casey agreed crushing a can against the rooftop effortlessly, "It'll be fun, two bros and a giant alligator. What do you say Raph?"

Raph didn't answer, but then Casey didn't need him to.

* * *

Donatello quietly entered the lab, Leatherhead had gone with Raphael and Casey to the old lair an hour ago, it had taken some convincing to get the larger mutant to leave his charge in their care. But after a quiet conversation with Master Splinter and, strangely enough, Casey the old alligator had agreed.

He had hardly left her bedside in the twenty four hours following the surgery, and blood transfusion. Donny thanked whatever deity was listening that Leo's blood type had been a match.

The steady beep of the heart monitor reassured him that the girl was still stable. He checked her vitals anyways, swallowing nervously as he took her delicate wrist in his hand, the three digits easily engulfing it, her heart was steady. His thumb stroked the inside of her wrist once before he hastily dropped it. He felt blood rush to his face, and he peeked at hers to make sure he hadn't disturbed her sleep.

She had high cheekbones, and a beak much like theirs, but her frame was much smaller, less muscular. He wondered vaguely what color her eyes were. He shook his head, sternly at himself and left the lab, closing the door as quietly as he could.

"So?" Mikey's voice called out from across the room, the youngest brother's head poked up to peer over the back of the couch at him. "What's the deal?"

Leo strode in from the kitchen, brows drawn together and shoulders tense. Donny smiled tiredly, "Still out like a light but still stable."

Mikey let a dopey smile cross his face, "Rad."

* * *

The second time April woke up, it was to the smell of bacon. She pried her eyes open, unhappily realizing that her mouth felt like cotton, and her shoulder _burned_. She blinked around the room in confusion. She was obviously still in the sewers, though more than likely in another abandoned and sealed off subway station. The room around her held medical and scientific equipment. She shivered, sudden panic swelling in her chest.

"Leatherhead?" she called out tentatively, swinging her legs off of the medical cot, wincing as she jarred the IV wires connected to her arm. She tugged them free gently. She inhaled slowly, trying to calm her racing heart. "Leatherhead?" she called again, her voice wavering.

"Relax Donny." The door swung open a tall male turtle balancing a tray in one hand back through the doorway.

Her eyes widened in surprise. He blinked back then grinned, "Hey, sleeping beauty! Welcome back to the world of the living!" She made a strangled sort of noise as a second turtle entered; a purple mask covered the top half of his face.

"What are you doing out of bed?" the purple masked turtle inquired, tone slightly panicked. "You could aggravate your wounds!" He took a step forward and she staggered back two. He stilled, his companion set the tray on a nearby table.

"Alright, everyone dial it back a notch." He chided, plucking the piece of fabric from the second slightly shorter turtle's face. "See, nothing to be scared of. Just a mask. I'm Michelangelo, and this is my brother Donatello. What's your name?"

April looked from one brother to the other; they were taller than her by a head at least and twice as broad. As big as they were, they weren't nearly as menacing as Leatherhead had been. "Where's Leatherhead?" she inquired before she could stop herself.

Donatello shuffled a little closer, "He's at home, taking care of a few things, he'll be back by this evening." April crossed an arm across her stomach and nodded distrustfully. "Why don't you sit down and Mikey'll give you some food."

She reluctantly sat down; Mikey plucked the tray off the table by the door to set it down closer to the bed. "So what is it?" Mikey wheedled, as April eyed the glass of water eagerly.

"What?" she queried, blinking up into Mikey's baby blue eyes.

Donatello moved around Mikey's shoulder, holding a hand out towards her. "I'm just going to check your vitals and your bandages, Okay?" April nodded, he took her wrist in his hand, eyes trained on the stop watch in the other.

"Your name." Mikey grinned at her again, and she felt her shoulder's relax involuntarily at the expression.

Blood rushed to her face and she smiled back sheepishly. "Oh, April. My name's April O'Neil."

Donatello's head snapped towards her and Mikey's eyes widened almost comically.

* * *

**A/N**: dun Dun DUUUUUUUUN!

Sorry this took a while. Life caught up to me. In all honesty I had most of this drafted up already and I stumbled on it and decided to finish it up. I feel like it's a bit choppy but then again most chapters in this story seem that way to me. I was also extremely anxious to write the guys. Still wringing my hands over them and I'm not sure I got them down as well as I'd hoped. But at the same time I think I did better than I expected.

Please review! As always constructive criticism is met with hugs and snuggles.

**Japanese Words and Phrases:**

_Kanojo wa noranekode wa arimasen._ \- She's not a stray cat.

_Chinmoku_. - Silence


End file.
